


Uncomfortable Crossings

by jflashandcrash



Series: The Traitors of Olympus [6]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: As Pax sobs, Comfort, FOOOOTBALLLLLL!!!, Family, No weasels--sorry weasel fans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-31 03:11:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15110606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jflashandcrash/pseuds/jflashandcrash
Summary: After the madness of Camp Half-Blood, Calex wanted a quiet day to kick the ball around the park. However, Calex quickly discovers goddesses are hard to ignore...





	1. I

 

Author’s Note:

                I had a request over half a year ago for Calex to interact with a certain goddess. It is shameful that it took me so long to write this! I hope you enjoy despite the wait!

                This takes place a year after the series’ last book, _Fall of the Sun_. This is based off the original ending, which has—since then—mostly changed. Mostly XD So… sort of spoilers?

 

For those of you waiting for book IV, it'll be coming out within the next week or two! :D

[Also, I would like to thank Cinders for this awesome cover!]

* * *

 

 

                Each time Calex kicked, the football slammed directly into the goal post.

                Fortunately, there was no one occupying the field to see it. That’s why he preferred the field behind the Roman hypocaust. There was a car park for tourists on holiday and for the few museum staff with cars. But most locals preferred the scenic view by the lake or the fields by the ruins of the wall around the ancient Roman city of Verulamium. The hypocaust could seem a bit dull compared to the lovely sprawl around the rest of the park.

                Most of the emptiness was due to the weather. The temperature reached a record high of 31 degrees with 100% humidity. For most of Calex’s mates, this was enough to turn them into jelly puddles inside their flats, but Calex used to holiday in Liberia and had spent the last year in New York. Normally, he’d drag them out, whining and acting like babies, but he wanted to be alone today.

                That’s why he was utterly shocked when his ball bounced off the goal post, popped over his shoulder, then shot straight back towards the goal from behind him.

                And missed wildly.

                Calex watched his ball fly into the field at least fifty meters away. Calex blinked, wondering if a professional footballer had been airlifted into the field without him hearing the helicopter and if that professional was bolluxed out of their mind.

                “Oh! Sorry! Here, use my ball while I go grab that,” someone said behind him.

                “Um, it’s alright—” Calex turned to see the blur go past. He doubted the girl was as fast as he was, but she was certainly fast. As she darted after the ball, he saw her beautiful locks trail behind her. Something felt off about her gait—like her steps took too long to land on the ground.

                Odd, but, after learning he was a demigod, his life had been nothing but odd.

                She wore a blue and white jersey, one he should recognize. The name across the back said _Karagounis_ in what Calex quickly recognized as Greek.

                He jogged after.

                Calex was in no mood to be polite or have a chat. At least she wasn’t attracted to him. The knowledge wasn’t anything self-degrading—Calex _knew_ lots of girls fancied his looks. He was a son of Eros and knowing people’s desires came with the territory.

                When she reached the ball and turned to dribble back—long dribbles with little control—Calex felt himself gasp and stagger to a stop, feeling both shallow and self-centered about the previous thought.

                The woman was lovelier than anyone he had ever seen. That was a grand thing, considering his grandmother was Aphrodite and he stayed with her children, his aunts and uncles, last year. He knew lovely.

                She was maybe ten years older than him, in her mid-twenties, but the age made her more brilliant, like she’d suffered and aged but managed to retain her youth and merriment.

                Her hair was long and waved loosely from a mix of plaits in her ponytail. The color was indescribable. At first, he thought it was like his mate, Kally, a strawberry blonde. This was darker, a subtlest cross between red, blonde, brunette, with natural highlights and lowlights from all three. Her skin had a gorgeous glow to it, not quite UK pale, but pale with a hue that cued Calex to her ability to tan.

                Her face was perfect.

                He didn’t think that with any exaggeration. It _was_ perfect.

                If Calex was at Camp Half-Blood, or by Mt. Olympus, he would have dropped right there to genuflect to a goddess. However, in the middle of St. Albans on a Tuesday, she might think it a bit odd or mental if he gave her the “all powerful” treatment in a football field, especially if she was just some poor women off the street who happened to practice beside a crazy demigod.

                “Sorry. It has been a long time since I played soccer,” she said as she evened with him. Her English was perfect with the slightest hint of a Greek accent.

                “Not a problem,” Calex said.

                She smiled in relief.

                He recognized that glint of relief and knew it was good he hadn’t dropped into an old fashioned grovel.

                There were times he had felt insecure when he entered a room, knowing everyone’s eyes were on him, and expecting him to be perfect because his father’s DNA made him look like he should be. Most of his mates in Britain could make jokes out of it, but, in America, he was uncomfortable when someone asked if he’d been in a magazine or some obscure BBC show, or when someone would point out _, “Oh… you’re African American—”_

_“British, actually”_

_“—well, yea, but you’re black and you have light eyes.”_

                Something about her look told him she felt something similar, a sense of humiliation due to the inability to avoid unwanted attention.[1]

                Calex swore, regardless of whether or not this woman was a goddess, that he’d treat her like a normal mortal.

                “That was an alright kick, Greece,” he said, “You’re sure to nail the net next time.”

                Her eyes were amber with flecks of blue and green. They were vibrant, like the rest of her. “I don’t mind failing…” She glanced at the jersey his cousin had bought for him. “Arsenal. Failing is half the reward of trying. How fulfilling would life be if you attained things instantly?”

                Calex thought about how he had failed to save his mum and brother from Thanatos, how Joey had died, and what had happened to Axel, Pax, and Euna after everything they’d gone through. “ _Reward”_ was an odd little word for it. His fist shook. He remembered the anger and dreariness that he’d come out here to ignore and that her beauty had temporarily disrupted.

                This woman definitely couldn’t be from around here if she was that much of an optimist. One look at Israel and you wouldn’t hear their prime minister saying _, “Oooo! Sorry about that. Let’s try that again!”_

                “Some things you can only fail once,” he said.

                His ball thumped gently into his foot.

                His head was light and ached. He felt like such rubbish that he didn’t want to look at her again.          

                “Pass the ball with me,” she said. “We’ll make a wager. If I lose, then I’ll concede that you’re right. If I win, then you’ll show me around St. Albans.”

                Calex had too many wagers in his life already, particularly ones involving a lot of death or undeath situations. While, in technical terms, his friends from Camp Half-Blood would call him a “lucky son of a respectable man since we would never say anything to upset Calex’s papi,” he wasn’t sure he wanted to bet his luck any further.

                “What’s the wager?” he asked.

                “I need to get the ball from you,” she said.

                Calex felt himself give a heartfelt laugh. “Not bloody likely.”

                “Then you have nothing to lose,” she said. “You’re already practicing, foolishly suffering from dehydration, and determined to hit the goal post instead of the net. So you might be better off reminding someone who is rusty how it’s done.”

 

* * *

 

 

[1] Calex would CRINGE at how full of himself this makes him sound. He would like to apologize and offer Pax shirts to all.

* * *

Thanks for reading! :D


	2. II

                Calex wouldn’t admit it if asked, but he had fun. This woman—Greece as he’d taken to calling her—had a contagious laugh, had no problem giggling over her own mistakes and making him chuckle at his own, was curious about every aspect of the game, listened to him talk about Arsenal for longer than the Queen could sit at a ceremony, and would excitedly interject with stories of her own. It was like everything was an adventure to her, every experience was fun.

                Calex felt like he’d lost that since he’d come back to Hertfordshire and left his friends in New York.

                She’d chided him into drinking some water. Like her beauty, her vivacity had shaken him out of his angst. Something about her put him at ease and felt familiar, like the coolest aunt he’d forgotten from childhood. Enough so that, when he was dribbling to their stuff to get another sip of water, he didn’t register what she was doing when she jumped in front of him, forcing him to stop short or knock her over.

                Calex stumbled to a stop.

                She turned and gave him a huge grin. “I got the ball from you.”

                “That doesn’t’ count,” he said.

                “It does.” She crunched her face up playfully. The more they interacted and the more he treated her like a typical bloke off the trolley, the more she’d relaxed into this playful, excited demeanor. “It does because you _want_ to show me around. Come along. I’ll treat you to lunch.”

                They walked around the town. Calex showed her the stuff tourists usually hyped over: the Cathedral—at which she demanded they make a quick sacrifice to honor the cathedral’s god, something Calex found profoundly baffling[1]—the rest of the park, the clock tower, and some of the nurseries. He was relieved she didn’t ask to go into Verulamium’s museum, the place he felt like he knew better than his own home and whose staff he wanted to punch at that moment.

                After winding through the streets full of people exhausted from the heat, they ended up in Café Rouge, a posh French restaurant that Tiwa had liked. When he stepped in, looking at the checkered red-and-clear stained windows, his stomach dropped.

                When his mum was exhausted after a shift at the hospital, he remembered her coming here, sitting in the corner booth with the red velvet cloth, and ordering a tea and a chicken club croque. During summer holiday, when they weren’t at her clinic in Kakata, he would come here to meet up with her, Tom, Gretchen, and Winston when he could.

                The glass paneled roof made this place look and feel like a botanical garden, too hot, too humid, and on display for the gods to watch.

                Calex wished he hadn’t come here.

                Their usual waitress, Amelia, immediately recognized him and gave him a shy smile. He hadn’t seen her in almost a year.

                Although Calex had led them here without thinking, he turned to leave with a cough and a wave of parting.

                “There’s a good table in the center,” Greece suggested. She took Calex’s arm, like he was the one escorting her, and led him over to the table. She gestured at one of the two-seaters that was in a line of empty two-seaters and Amelia nodded.

                “Um—” Calex started.

                She sat down and Amelia hopped over faster than he could whisper, _“I’ve been abducted by a beautiful woman, help!”_

                “What would you like to drink?” Amelia asked.

                “Surprise me,” Greece said. She clasped her hands together, smiling at the tiny brunette. “And I mean it. Any price, any style, form mocktails to fiz. If you want, flip a coin between you and the other waitress and bring me out the favorite drink of whoever gets heads.”

                Amelia paused in writing something down to blink at Greece. Normally, he guessed Amelia would think Greece mental, but Calex assumed Amelia struggled with the same problem that he was: Greece’s contagious smile, her natural confidence, and startlingly genuine excitement that made him want to trust her. Normally, such cheer would make him think she was mad and here to rob him, the restaurant, the city, and likely the country of all of her goods. But, for some inexplicable reason, Greece’s demeanor kept putting him at ease and made him feel like this was the right time and place for all things to exist.

                “The usual for you then?” Amelia asked Calex.

                He nodded and smiled. “Thanks, Amelia.”

                She blushed. “It’s good to have you back,” she said. For a split second, Calex realized she’d thought about him without his trousers on.

                He cleared his throat, something he hoped she mistook for embarrassment at the comment.

                Amelia walked away.              

                Greece watched their interaction with amusement. “So, is it romantic love or familial that’s the problem?” she asked, leaning forward a little.

                Calex must have heard her wrong. “Excuse me?”

                “Something has been bothering you all day,” she said.

                They went silent for a moment when Amelia brought them their drinks and took their orders.

                “Same? Surprise and usual?” Amelia asked, pointing her pen to each of them in turn.

                Both nodded.

                Calex tried to ignore that Amelia was systematically undressing him in her mind. Some days, he could ignore things like that. Today, he was struggling not to “listen in” on other people’s wants.

                She walked away and Calex tucked his scarf against his neck.

                “You’re quite presumptuous, aren’t you?” he asked while he sipped his tomato juice. He didn’t like the drink anymore and would have rather a Hoegaarden, but he hadn’t the heart to change things up on Amelia or find out what article of clothing would come off next time in her mind cinema. He would order it when she brought the food and would hope that each of his socks counted as separate pieces of clothing in her game.

                “You’re seventeen.” Greece shrugged.

                Calex frowned. He had to wonder if she knew it was his birthday or if she’d gotten a lucky guess on his age. Her question made his mind wander to what had upset him that morning.

                She shrugged. “And, it’s summer break, so you’re not worried about revision for A levels or entering sixth form.”

                Calex examined her wearily. Out of his new friends, only Axel and—dare he call him a friend?—Pax had known anything about his school system. Apparently the structure was similar in Belize. But was it in Greece? Was she actually from Greece?

                “Who am I going to tell?” she asked, mistaking the source of his growing suspicion.

                Typically, an innate sense of trust made him want to distrust people more, like they were looking to gain something. He felt a part of his heart give though. This woman gave him such an irrational sense of livelihood, of wanting to experience the world, and chat about the things he loved and scream about the things he hated, it made him lightheaded. And, had she not come by that morning, he’d have likely finished at the fields, and then locked himself in his room all day.

                “There is a girl,” he found himself saying.

                Greece gave him a lovely smile. “What is she like?”

                “She’s…” He thought about the times Merry had publically humiliated him. “Merciless. Yea, merciless. That one is.”

                Greece laughed, a fantastic sound. “And here I was, expecting ‘beautiful’ or ‘intelligent.’”

                “Oh, she is. Quite good at making me laugh too.” He marveled over how well Merry could store information in her head and use it to outwit others—whether monsters or crude blokes—and, how she could make guesses about future events in Camp Half-Blood, mostly involving people’s dating lives. He pictured Merry’s dark eyes contrasted with her honey skin and the curves of her body. She looked like a Victoria Secret model with a hardy appetite, and Calex wouldn’t change a single thing about her brain or her physique. Well… except…

                “She’s quite alright,” he said.

                “And..?” Greece asked.

                Calex sighed. He lifted up his drink and set it on the table. What he would change…

                “She isn’t attracted to me. At all. She isn’t attracted to anyone.”

                He waited for Greece to say he couldn’t know that, a completely reasonable response for someone who didn’t know he was a son of Eros and that he could tell when shy waitresses had him on their mental tele with much less clothing, much more interest in public displays of affection, and much less respect for restaurant sanitation. Instead, Greece frowned thoughtfully, waiting for him to continue.

                “I’m not sure she’ll ever find any bloke physically attractive.” Calex remembered all the times she’d make flirtatious comments about people’s bodies, like empty reverberations of gossip she’d heard. She never _felt_ it. She would just say it to make people laugh or to contribute to a conversation. And, Calex feared, to feel normal.

                This is where he should stop, but the words slipped out. “She said she loves me.” He remembered how she had snuggled into his chest, calling him her sweet, sexy teddy bear. But, he couldn’t read emotional love. That was Piper’s, his aunt’s, territory. Merry’s confession had taken him by dumbfounded surprise, since those words were typically preluded by some sort of physical attraction.

                “That made it worse. I want… I want an all-inclusive relationship. It wouldn’t need to be immediate. I would wait however long she wanted and we could talk through everything. But that’s assuming Merry would ever want that. What if she never wants it? Nothing says she needs to nor should she ever feel pressured if it’s not something she’s interested in…”             

                There was no better way for him to explain it. He _knew,_ physically, how to properly take care of everyone he got close to. That’s why people would come to him for advice, like the time Axel had, shaking with embarrassment, asked about one of his dates with Reyna, and the time Kally had timidly asked some generic questions on how things worked when you’re copping off.[2]

                Even if Calex didn’t want to know, the sense of what everyone wanted was in a neat queue, waiting for use by him or as advice for others. He knew what to do at any time to really get their engines roaring. But, he didn’t with Merry. It was a blank slate. Everyone else had a rolling instruction manual that he could access in a split second. But, he didn’t want them. He didn’t care about those instruction manuals. He wanted to show _Merry_ how much he appreciated her in the way his godly heritage had given him the unquestionable advantage, but… he couldn’t. She was the only reason he could guess why other blokes were so nervous interacting sexually. Typically, he was full of the confidence of _knowing._ Not with Merry. Not when she didn’t want to get physically intimate with anyone and nothing he knew of could spike any sense of desire.

                He didn’t know how to explain any of that without coming across as a total creep.

                “I know that’s selfish,” he said instead. “It’s not that I wouldn’t mind waiting. If I knew, in a few years…” There was no acceptable way to end that line of dialogue with a stranger, or—really—with anyone.

                “No…” Greece frowned and Calex was ready for a proper (and well earned with how much of a dodgy perv he sounded) feminist lashing. “Calex, that isn’t selfish.”

                Calex blinked. “Yes, it is.”

                She laughed. “No, it isn’t. That’s a compatibility conflict. And, for someone like you, that is a serious compatibility conflict. From the way you’re talking and the way you are, I know you’re not seeking your own sexual gratification. How many times would you pleasure Merry without getting any reciprocation and even noticing or caring that you hadn’t?” 

                “Hundreds, if not thousands,” he said reflexively.

                When he realized that those were real words that came out of his mouth, he glanced around, to make sure Amelia hadn’t heard to use that for her mental tele. Calex took a long sip of tomato juice, desperately wishing he had Merry’s power to turn it into something a bit stronger. His mind sprinted through excuses as to why he would need to leave this table in a hurry, and wondered if this woman would believe him if he said he had an appointment to slog Boris Johnson in the face.[3]

                Greece, however, acted like this question was a typical Tuesday question. “Probably the same number of times Merry would help you study for an exam without ever feeling like you owed her a favor.”

                Calex felt like they’d just been chatting about a meat eater repeatedly offering a vegetarian an endless chicken supply, and that Greece had brought up the time the vegetarian offered the meat eater an endless supply of slinkies. Calex wasn’t sure if Greece just had a time lapse or if she was just stark raving mad.

                She confused Calex enough to make him say, “But, I don’t care about revision for my exams.”

                “That’s my point. You express your love differently, in different languages, and don’t have any common communication ground, beyond the enjoyment of each other’s presence.” She sipped her sparkling drink and grinned. “Ah! _Fizz la Poire_! What a nice combo.”

                Calex wished it would be as simple as she’d suggested. “So, you’re telling me to pull a girl by studying with her? That’s the secret to the Merry Snog: a good math textbook.”

                Merry, he realized, would fancy that official title quite a bit.

                Greece shook her head. “You’re missing the point. The studying _is_ the snog to her.”            

                “I’m not sure I follow you.”

                Greece laughed lightly. “You’re just like your father.”

                Calex almost choked on his next sip of the thick juice. “Excuse me?” His suspicion came back to hit him like a power kick from Alexis Sanchez.[4]

                She shook her head in pleasant amusement. “You need to consider what is important to the two of you and where you can both compromise. Can you be in a relationship where you both feel unloved because you don’t understand each other’s methods of expressing love? You both might feel more fulfilled with someone who naturally expresses their affection in a way you appreciate and understand. Then you both won’t feel guilty for expecting something that isn’t there or holding the other back. The guilt you’re feeling about wanting to spend time with Merry in a particular way and knowing she wouldn’t want that—have you considered that she feels the same guilt for a different unfulfilled want?”

                “I hardly think that’s an appropriate comparison,” Calex said. He mentally toured through the various times Merry had offered to study with him, help him with his homework, or look through summer job applications. Kally, Merry’s best friend, had explained that Merry was mental over keeping a 4.0. The queasiness in Calex’s stomach told him Greece was right. Merry showed her affection to her mum and brother, Nikhil, by helping them with school and work. Had he been a total idiot? But having someone study with you when they were bored of it and having them snog you when they were bored of it were two very different things.

                Greece smiled. “It’s closer than you’re allowing yourself to think. You two might be better off with someone more compatible. Couples _can_ make it work when they don’t express love the same way or click immediately. I wasn’t enthralled with my husband when we first met, but, in no time, I want to Tartarus and back again for him.”

                She touched her shoulder, her eyes glassy with a memory. They warmed back to the present. “Times are different now. You can’t start your relationship by kidnapping your princess. Back to your modern scenario, you could sit there and study with her, despite not caring about the studying at all, and she could—”

                “No,” Calex said firmly, checking _goddess_ on his internal description of this woman. “She’s… she’s offered to try. But, I can’t even kiss her when I know she’s not interested in kissing. Even if her reaction is disinterest instead of dislike, what’s the point if she’s not enjoying herself?”

                “And that, ‘What’s the point?’ is how she feels about any of the ways she wants to express her emotion. That’s why I was going to say, you could push through it, but I’m not sure it would be healthy for either of you right now. Maybe later, but not now. And I certainly don’t think either of you will be able to happily live life, enjoy it, and experience it, and potentially other people, if you leave the situation in limbo.”

                Calex frowned. He thought about Merry’s smile when she knew she’d cornered someone with blackmail or the way she’d tease him by bumping against him on “accident.”

                “That’s not the uplifting, encouraging speech I was expecting,” he admitted.

                She shrugged. “I’m not going to encourage you to do something that will hold you back from expressing yourself the way you most enjoy. And I won’t say you should do something that will prevent you from living life in a way that’s important to you. If you’re anything like your father, you’ve quite an appetite, and it would make you miserable to suppress it.”

                Calex sat there, stunned.

                No one would _ever_ say that about Winston.

                Had she really—? There was no way. No one in their polite, right mind—

                “Oh gods, you’re Psyche,” he said. He had to set his tomato juice down to balance himself against the table. “Oh gods. You just said that about my _dad_. Please don’t ever, _ever_ , _EVER_ refer to his appetite—or—or refer to you two—augh—shagging _ever_ again.” 

                Psyche released a beautiful, heartfelt laugh. “For being a son of Eros, you’re incredibly uncomfortable with these discussions. Your sister, Hedone, is very forward about this type of thing.”

                “I’m awkward and British!” Calex cried. “I’m not absolutely mental like you Greek gods!”

                Maybe Calex shouldn’t have been mouthing off to a goddess, specifically not his step-mother, but this was a bit to take in.

                “And—and why are you even _here_? Aren’t you supposed to think… rather unpleasantly of me?” All the stories he’d heard of gods meeting their step children didn’t end with fairies and sunshine and the god or goddess crying, _“There’s my favorite proof of adultery!”_

Her smile softened. “Calex, Eros and I have been together for thousands of years. Every couple hundred years, one of us will meet someone as remarkable as your mother. Then, we discuss it and have our agreements. It would be ridiculous for me to hate someone Eros loves so much, especially someone who has grown into an impressive young man. I’ve wanted to meet you, but this is the first birthday you really knew who you were.”

                A sick taste hit his mouth. The hopelessness and dreariness of the morning threatened to overtake him again. A lot had changed since his last birthday.

                “Your father is going to drop by later today,” she said. “He had to do a favor for your grandmother so she doesn’t notice the two of us here with you.”

                Calex wasn’t worried about his father. Compared to other half-bloods, he saw his dad a lot. Over the last year, Eros had not been shy with gifts or advice.

                That wasn’t what was unsettling Calex. “Did you know Tiwa?” he asked quietly.

                Tiwa didn’t strike Calex as someone capable of being a mistress. He could imagine his mum marching up to Psyche as soon as she discovered Eros was married. And he certainly couldn’t think she would be like Mrs. Blythe, Merry’s mother who was… intimate with _both_ Ariadne and Dionysus. Definitely filing that into _Things He Never Wanted to Know. **[5]**_

                “I mostly knew _of_ her,” Psyche said. She leaned back into her chair. The sunrays beaming through the glass ceiling hit her back; Calex’s eyes widened when he saw an array of color flowering around her chair and sweeping by her feet: wings. Butterfly wings. The Mist must have coated them before, but the brilliant colors shimmered like a stained glass frame for her hair. Like everything else about her, they were vibrant to the point of breathtaking. “We met over tea a few times. She was… fearless despite the fact that she knew I was a goddess. She wanted to make sure everyone knew exactly what was happening between the three of us. She didn’t trust Eros acting as a messenger.”

                “She always liked to make sure things were done correctly,” Calex said.

                Psyche laughed. “That’s a generous understatement.”

                Staring at the colors of Psyche’s wings, he could picture his mum’s soft face, whether in a smile to appreciate a witty joke or a terrifying scowl to ridicule Calex for some act of stupidity. Calex swallowed. That horrible emptiness from this morning seeped into his system.

                He told himself not to—that he didn’t want to talk about it. Still, the words came out of his mouth. “I used to resent going to mum’s clinic in Kakata every holiday.  I often had to spend my birthday there, with Tom and Mum, while my mates were off in Playa Del Ingles, Saint-Tropez, or some other posh beach.”

                Now, Calex wished he could be there. He wished he could have woken up this morning to his great granddad poking him and his brother with a walking cane while muttering a cryptic, Liberian aphorism. Then he and Tom, whining and complaining about the heat, would escort Mum to her clinic for a day of hard labor. 

                Now, when it came to his mum and brother, some days were better than others. He could sometimes laugh with Winston about something Tom used to do, or how hopeless they both were in the kitchen without Tiwa around. Other days, the house was quiet and cold without the buoyant conversation about Tiwa’s nightshift or Tom’s football match. Most of the time, Gretchen ran out with her mates, and Calex and Winston were working.

                Today, Calex felt numb.

                “Chiron said I could stay at Camp Half-Blood this summer, but Winston needs me here. He can barely afford the flat’s rent without Tiwa’s helping to pay. We might need to move. That’s one of the reasons I was so mad at Marie—the museum head—for forcing me to take the day off. I don’t care that it’s my birthday. _They_ never cared about stuff like that before.”

                He shrugged. “But… but this is my first birthday without my mum or brother. Gretchen won’t talk to me much. She hasn’t since… since I survived and the others didn’t.”

                His little sister worried him and Winston, but he didn’t feel like there was much he could do. It felt like… felt like she blamed him for living, like it was his fault that their home had fallen apart.

                Psyche didn’t say anything. She reached across the table and gently set a hand atop his. Over the last year, he’d become more accustomed to brash touching—Pax and Kally made sure to that. This was different. Something about her touch—she understood loss. Calex wondered how many lovers and children Psyche watched succumb to old age or sudden tragedy.

                They sat in silence for a moment.

                “Mum would scold me for dwelling on it so much. Tom would have hit me and told me I was being a twat. Especially on my birthday…” Calex laughed softly.

                “Calex, you need to let yourself feel without getting mad about the feelings.” She squeezed his hand.

                Calex glanced at her blue and white jersey, now shimmering into a sleeveless, short chiton, her glossy wings and hair, her sweet face and warm eyes. If she hadn’t met him at the football field, he would have kept to himself all day, with his phone off to ignore any contact with his mates. Gretchen would have stormed into the house without a word to him and Winston would have come home from work and collapsed in front of the tele without Tiwa to remind him of their birthdays.

                Here, he was out of the flat, chatting with a goddess about his lunatic love prospects and his family. Insane, but much less bleak than he’d expected the day to go.

                Calex didn’t know how to show his gratitude to Psyche.

                The sadness in Psyche’s eyes made Calex squeeze her hand back. She raised her _Fizz la Poir._ “To living life in honor of those we miss,” she suggested.

                He tilted his glass to hers. “I really need to get a different drink for toasting. I think Tom might be offended,” he said, taking a sip of his tomato juice.

                They smiled.

                The restaurant door opened and closed. Calex didn’t look over, but could hear some female giggles.

                Now that he’d mentioned changing out his drink, Calex had to wonder where Amelia went. Normally, she was—

                “There’s my favorite Teddy Bear.”

                For a split second, he could see Psyche’s smile tweak with amusement. Then, the world vanished behind two perfect breasts as someone wrapped him in huge hug.

                When the person withdrew, Calex found Merry beaming down at him. That green and gold, low-cut sundress wouldn’t have looked half as good on anyone other than her. Her hair was curled and Calex ached to realize this was the first time he’d seen Merry in smart dress for a party.

                Glancing around Merry, he saw this was, indeed, a party. Kally gave him a huge grin and wave. She had her—and presumably Merry’s—birthday gifts under one arm. Her other arm held the unmistakable colors of her Manchester United jacket. Calex was happy the weather was too hot for her to get mugged for putting it on in the wrong town. Behind Kally, Piper and Jason entered the restaurant, glancing around the glass ceiling.

                Paul, his crazy cousin, and one of their Arsenal hooligan mates stepped in after, noticed how Merry kept snug against Calex’s side and how Psyche sat across from him and gave Calex a subtle thumbs up.

                “When did all of you get here?” Calex asked, baffled. He glanced at Psyche who was innocently sipping at her drink. “Did you do this?”

                She shook her head. “Oh, no. I offered to get you here for lunch. That is the extent of my foreplanning.”

                “This did this,” Merry said and pointed to herself. “You have a child of parties and revelry before you and you accuse someone else of orchestrating a shindig. I’m personally offended, birthday boy.”

                A wave of euphoria struck Calex, and he didn’t think it was from Merry’s powers. He hadn’t seen any of them since he left America, at least a month ago. Electronics never agreed with demigods, so he struggled to properly keep in touch. Talking to his mates at home was uncomfortable. Everyone treated him different since he got back. Until Calex saw their smiling faces, he hadn’t known how much he’d missed them.

                “Hi Calex!” Piper cheered. “Lacy had to pick up someone else, but she and Mitchell are looking for parking right now.”

                Jason nodded. “Percy and Annabeth send their best, but they had some college-level monsters pop up.”

                “We had a few ‘maybe’ responses, but the important people are here,” Kally said and punched his arm.

                Out of his peripheral, he could see Amelia rush out with a pre-prepared tray of sparkling beverages. Paul and his mate, Oliver, helped her to set up some space for them.

                “The most important people, Cyclops?”

                Calex, Merry, Kally, Piper, Jason, and—to Calex’s alarm—Psyche, all jumped at the couple that entered the restaurant.

                For a split second, Calex dropped his hand to his pencil pouch, containing _Soul Pain_ , his bow. After a breath, he recognized the new occupant. It was someone younger and much more annoying than the person Calex had mistook the boy for. Beside the boy was someone else that Calex thought he may never ever see again.

                Pax wore a familiar burgundy button-down and dress pants. His wild raven hair was combed back into a sloppy ponytail that curled and twisted. He wore his fully loaded utility belt with poisons and serums. Two revolvers hung out of his shoulder holsters and atop suspenders that were lined with darts. He winked his golden eye at Kally.

                Calex had to wonder what the Mist turned all those weapons into when Pax was on the street.

                Pax held his automaton hand out to escort a young woman Calex also didn’t recognize initially.

                Upon examining her, Calex could tell she wasn’t wearing real clothing. The… dress? Or sometimes body suit..? The clothing she wore trembled and altered as they walked closer. The mesh itself came from intertwining leaves, vines, and flowers. Petals fell from it as she walked, leaving a trail of colors. Her feet were bare. The only solid thing that she wore was a sickle strapped across her back with a vine. Her unkempt hair was enlaced with more beautiful flowers, ones—Calex thought—he remembered being poisonous.

                Her dark gaze was turned upward so she could grin at the glass ceiling.

                When she met his stare, she smiled like they’d seen each other yesterday. “Hey. Nice choice in restaurant. What’s their best meal?”

                “Euna?” Kally asked, covering her mouth with one hand.

                Like Calex, her fingers had dropped into her messenger bag in a reflexive search for a weapon.

                “Yes, a happy Euna, that looks completely normal and you should compliment her on realizing floral was in this summer,” Pax said.

                Jason opened and closed his mouth, glaring at Pax suspiciously. Everyone knew the Romans had been searching for these two. Piper tugged on Jason’s hand. “It’s nice to have everyone together for Calex’s birthday, isn’t it?” she asked.

                Calex could feel the calm of Piper’s tone.

                “Yep,” Merry piped in. “All here to relax and party.”

                Between the two of them, the tension in Jason’s arm muscles eased. Calex and Kally released their weapons. Piper tugged Jason to the side to look at a menu.

                A bee flew off one of Euna’s shoulder plants as she and Pax approached Calex. She held out a hand and a root twisted down her arm to her palm. Upon resting there, something sprouted, in fast motion, and a beautiful grey and purple flower appeared. “I made you a flower,” she said. “It will alternate blooming from mid-spring to late autumn. And, as Axel would have recommended, you can use its leaves to kill your enemies. But, for real, what is the best thing on this menu?”

                She set the flower into the vase on the table. All the other plants in the vase rose up to her hand, coming to full bloom.

                “Lovely,” Calex said, staring at the beautiful, deadly plant, so close to where they were going to eat. “And—um—for you? Probably the Boeuf Bourguignon.” He said, fumbling to think of the most filling thing on the menu. He was so taken aback by her appearance—someone he thought he’d never see again, he felt silly giving lunch recommendations instead of giving her a hug.

                She nodded, took a table, and was immediately set upon by Paul. Kally rushed over to make sure Paul didn’t unsettle the volatile daughter of Demeter. Calex had to wonder what Paul saw when he looked at Euna—a cute Korean girl in a floral dress? Someone nearly naked with… what would he think the sickle was?

                Psyche’s eyes trailed Euna’s movements, proving not everyone invited knew about everyone else that could be coming. He imagined Merry “forgetting” that she’d be inviting Euna and a goddess and—if his dad showed up—a god. At least Euna either didn’t recognize Psyche or didn’t care. From their conversations that morning, Calex could also imagine Psyche coming regardless.

                Pax withdrew something from a pouch on his utility belt. “She brought you a birthday gift. I bring you bribery.”

                He handed Calex an envelope.

                “The closest thing to a gift that a Pax boy can give when he doesn’t want to sleep with the receiver,” Merry said.

                Pax tsked. “Merry, don’t jump to conclusions. I could have great interest in Calex.”

                “Don’t even joke,” Calex hissed. He broke the seal. “I ought to open this now, oughtn’t I? In case there’s some sort of Morpheus powder?”

                He expected it to be a drawing of weasels devouring him, as Pax had promised to make in the past.

                Instead, there was a check.

                For a moment of stupid belief, Calex felt his jaw drop. With as much firm denial as he’d previously felt awe, he said, “This is fake.”

                Pax gave him that half-grin. “Now, really, you can’t know that until it bounces and you look like an idiot at the bank.”

                Calex glared. He leaned forward. Short of excusing themselves, there was no way to keep Merry and Psyche from listening, but he had to put up the illusion of privacy. Judging from their overtly feigned ignorance and they way they lunged into a seeming personal conversation for supposed strangers, he suspected they knew exactly what was in this envelope before he’d opened it.  “Pax, what dodgy thing did you do to get it and what are you getting at by pretending to offer this to me?”

                “ _I_ haven’t done anything dodgy to get this,” Pax said. His fingers made a metallic clacking noise as they shuffled along his utility belt. “I was talking to your step-mom—”

                “Aunt,” Psyche interrupted both their and her and Merry’s conversation. “Step-mom feels weird.”

                “Auntie,” Pax corrected. “About your situation—”

                Betrayal twisted Calex’s stomach. He hadn’t felt comfortable telling anyone, including Psyche, about his family’s financial situation. Now she was yapping to others? But… there was no way. He just spoke of it a few minutes ago…

                “—with the whole Pax Pharmaceutical Company drugging and kidnapping you and causing you all that trauma,” Pax said flippantly.

                Calex stared. “Pardon?”

                 “Pax Pharmaceuticals is currently going through a rebranding, but it would really hurt our image if word got out that members of the organization had done some nasty things.”

                “Wait—” Calex could never forget the horrible events Pax was referencing—a year ago when Santiago Pax kidnapped all of them, drugged he and Merry, and killed Joey Song, Euna’s sister. That wasn’t where his confusion lay. “You’re actually bribing me?” he asked. Pax had been as much a traumatized victim as the rest of them.

                In the bluntest answer Pax had ever said to him, the young Mayan gave him a sly smile. “Yes. Happy Bribe Day.”

                “I put my hush money into a fund for Nikhil to go to university,” Merry said cheerily. “And he thought it was for us to go to Disney.”

                “How cruel,” Psyche said.

                Calex swallowed, staring at the check. “Psyche… you threatened to sue him?”

                “Threatened is a strong word,” Pax said.

                Psyche took a sip from her drink and gave him one of those dazzling smiles. Her wings fluttered.

                Calex didn’t like the idea of owing this dodgy bloke a favor, even if the favor was silence. As he stared at the digits, he thought about how long this check would last them if Winston downsized their housing and they were careful. The money he made from his summer job could go towards plane tickets to visit his mates in America and, like how Merry was using hers, maybe go into a college fund for Gretchen. And, if they accepted it, at least then he’d know any money Gretchen made would go towards new clothing instead of rent.

                “I’m thinking about using Kally’s money to take her on some surprise vacations,” Pax said.

                Merry clucked her tongue. “Using hush money from a kidnapping to fund further kidnappings. Pax, you naughty one.”

                “Oh!” He snapped his fingers, fishing out another envelope. “Wait—Calex, this is more important. Here is your birthday gift.”

                After the first envelope’s content, Calex was worried. He tore it open to look inside, wondering if he should wait until later—

                And found a depiction of a colossal weasel attacking Big Ben with what Calex could only assume was a stick-figure version of himself hanging out of the animal’s mouth.

                He wanted to express to Pax how much he hated him, but couldn’t rectify that with the weird need to give the boy a hug.

                Instead, Calex took something out of Axel’s old book of _Etiquette in the Face of Pax_ and simply sighed, deciding to worry over the check later and enjoy the party.

                Although the odd intermixing of groups was a right mess, Calex had a fantastic time. He enjoyed watching Paul and Oliver fawn hopelessly over Euna, Psyche, and Kally, watching Kally and Paul argue over football, and watching Psyche awkwardly dodge around Pax’s audacious humor. Poor Kally didn’t know what to do when Pax turned on his charm full blast.

                Calex had to wonder what his mates would say if Eros really did show up. Others had said they could see the resemblance between the two of them. Would Paul and Oliver lose their minds to hear about Calex’s biological dad?

                All that faded away though when the best birthday present possible walked into the restaurant. Calex was in mid-laugh, watching Pax snark one of the fizzy drinks up his nose when he saw Lacy and Mitchell—children of Aphrodite that he’d shared a cabin with last year—step inside. Behind them, the lanky, nervous figure of Winston came through, babbling about being late. Lastly, there were four teenage girls.

                Three of them were people he hadn’t really seen much since they moved to St. Albans from their tiny flat in London when Calex was very young. One, a teenage girl with black-streaked blonde hair and punk clothing, winked at him, and he knew he would have to pretend he hadn’t seen her within the last year.

                Lastly, came a beautiful girl with frizzy black hair, caramel eyes, and a deep tan. She wore punk clothing that ought to have died a decade earlier, though Calex was certain she’d gotten them from the blonde. Calex had to marvel over how the fierceness in Gretchen’s eyes reminded him of Tiwa’s.

                They roamed inside as though their presence had nothing to do with the party—except that two of the girls, Liz and Emma if he remembered properly, where giggling and gasping at Calex’s presence. Gretchen always hated it when her friends got crushes on him.

                On their way to a booth in the corner, the blonde nudged Gretchen’s arm and whispered to her. “Come onnn, Gretch. Your brother isn’t half as annoying as mine.”

                Gretchen sighed, jammed her hands into her pockets, and glared at Calex. “Happy birthday or whatever,” she said.

                Those were the first words she had said to him in weeks.

                Calex knew she’d be furious if made a deal out of it.

                Before he could bollocks the situation, she and her friends continued to the booth, away from the rest of them. Calex smiled after them, tuning out the noise from the other party guests. Although he still missed his mum and brother, everything felt… lighter…

                When Calex brought his attention back to Pax’s antics, Psyche caught his eye and tilted her glass towards him.

                Calex tilted his—now a proper pint—back towards her. She was right. He still needed to find a way to thank her, Merry, and Gretchen for making this day a brilliant one. For now, he decided he would keep true to their toasting, and live life to the fullest in honor of those he missed.  

 

 

* * *

Footnotes:

 

[1] Pike’s betaediting comment: “We slaughtered an ox right quick to honor God, no big deal, a little off, I suppose, but not any weirder than anything those hooligans get to after the World Cup.”

[2] Much to Calex’s irritation and frustration at which people she looks at as love interests.

[3] British Secretary of State for Foreign and Commonwealth Affairs

[4] Forward for Arsenal. Ehem. Until Manchester United, Kally’s favorite team, swiped him in 2018. However, in this book series’ timeline, Alexis would have just started his Arsenal career. Can you imagine the look of horror on Calex’s face when he found out one of Arsenal’s best players was being transferred to Kally’s team?

[5] Mel suggests a quick dip in the River Lithe. Supposedly cures that RIGHT up.

* * *

Thanks for reading! :D _Fall of the Sun_ 's first chapter (Will: A Stroll in the Dark) will be released in the next week or two!


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